Ambassadors from Nowhere
by Scarlet Warhawk
Summary: Faced with the grim discovery that their goal will require far more hearts then previously estimated, Xemnas takes drastic measures to counteract the unanticipated obstacle–by both expanding the Organization's ranks and seeking new hunting grounds. There are countless worlds just beyond the veil–the only question is, can the Organization XIII's newest recruits handle them?
1. Prologue

**Title: _Ambassadors From Nowhere_**

**Description: **_**Faced with the grim discovery that Kingdom Hearts will require far more hearts then previously estimated, Xemnas takes drastic measures to counteract the unanticipated obstacle–by both expanding the Organization's ranks and seeking new hunting grounds to harvest hearts. There are countless worlds just beyond where a Gummi Ship can take you–the only question is, are the Organization XIII's newest recruits ready for what demons they will encounter?**_

_**...And will the demons be ready for them?**_

**Disclaimer: I own neither Soul Eater nor Kingdom Hearts.**

* * *

**Chapter: Prologue - "Ominous Arrival" (This is so not cool)**

**Announcement: Hey guys. Just a little Soul Eater/KH fic I drafted for fun here. Yes, the Newbodys will be in it, and yes, this is separate from R:R:R. I just needed to ditch that and start fresh, at least for now.**

Morning. The first rays of cold early light crept over the land, cold, and carrying a feeling of groggy, vulnerable peace–rare and appreciative—over rolling hills of lush green, sparkling with the residual dew of the previous night, blanketing everything with a restful embrace. The wind was drifting idly, an empty, watchful breeze, barely noticeable but for the occasional murmur. The silence was comforting, leaving a tense, but satisfied backdrop to all that transpired.

Then came a flash of light, so brilliant it blotted out all else, followed immediately by a vortex of inky blackness welling up from out of thin air. Smoky tendrils of darkness blossomed outwards and stretched to fashion a shapeless, formless entryway of shadows, leading into unfathomable darkness. The light seemed to cast colder shade, rising from it's sleepy haze to a hostile, guarded state, as the dew took in the cold, the calm blanket becoming needles of icy spite, and the wind grew panicked, whispering to those who would listen; _'leave now... this is an evil place'_ The silence hid, leaving only an void where it had been, which made the wind's whispers sound more like screams.

From the shadowed entrance emerged a figure clothed in a jet-black coat that hung strikingly large on their small frame. The first was followed by three more, each similarly garbed and of slightly varying heights.

The change was instantaneous. The wind faltered in it's whispering, frantic worry dissolving into mindless panic, which swirled into a demented mix of howling laughter and screeching fear, all tumbled up into violent gusts. The light grew brighter and harsher and hotter as it rose, yet the shadows retained their cold and their hostility, shrinking beneath what cast them, radiating malice and rage. The dew trickled down, settling to form tiny puddles that soaked anything they touched down to the bone. The silence was suddenly everywhere, oppressive and apathetic, full of nothing but frigid evil and emptiness.

As the figures stepped forward, there passed an unspoken agreement between them, then they each vanished in a whirl of black, grey and white with a soft whisper.

Their mission had begun.

* * *

At that exact moment, five thousand miles from that spot, a girl with mousy brown hair fashioned into pigtails, and a white-haired boy with sharp teeth both paused where they sat in the living room of their small apartment, twin pairs of eyes—predatory red and compassionate olive—turning to gaze out the window.

"Hey, you feeling that?"

"Yeah... But I haven't felt that since..."

"..."

"..."

"Man, this is_ so _not cool..."

* * *

**And there you have it. Prologue done. Just so you know, this story takes place some time after the end of Soul Eater, and in a significantly altered KH universe. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Title: _Ambassadors From Nowhere_**

**Description: **_**Faced with the grim discovery that Kingdom Hearts will require far more hearts then previously estimated, Xemnas takes drastic measures to counteract the unanticipated obstacle–by both expanding the Organization's ranks and seeking new hunting grounds to harvest hearts. There are countless worlds just beyond where a Gummi Ship can take you–the only question is, are the Organization XIII's newest recruits ready for what demons they will encounter?**_

_**...And will the demons be ready for them?**_

**Disclaimer: I own neither Soul Eater nor Kingdom Hearts.**

* * *

**Chapter: One - "Route Recalculation" (It's amazing how much a little math can screw up)**

_[Some Months Previously.../Xemnas's Office]_

The silence was deafening. Vexen felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead, to which he paid no heed–all of his attention focused on the silver-haired figure before him that stood with his back facing the nervous scientist. The silence dragged on, as Xemnas slowly processed the information his frigid subordinate had informed him of, face expressionless. Finally, he spoke.

"Repeat yourself," he said, voice calm and level, with it's usual rich, charismatic tone replaced with cold steel and authority. Vexen gulped nervously, wringing his hands as the gaunt man's face drained of color. A common misconception was that Nobodies could not experience emotion. While it was, for almost all intents and purposes true, their minds and bodies could _remember_ having emotions quite well. Nevertheless, thanks to the Organization's shadowy, secretive nature and likely the wild imaginations of some particular witness, it had become a very widespread rumor that Nobodies could not feel fear. That was entirely inaccurate, as every fiber of Vexen's being radiated pure and absolute _terror_.

"Ac-according to m-m-my calculations, Superior..." he began, stammering madly. "Our previous estimate–regarding th-the Organization's goal w-were...grossly understated..."

The silence was back, this time laced with a barely-restrained malice that betrayed Xemnas's façade of calm indifference.

"_By how much?_" he growled, forcing each word, as if exerting herculean effort in order to remain civil.

"W-well, it's imp-p-possible to know for...for certain at this early stage, but-" Xemnas cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"**_VEXEN_**," he snarled warningly. Vexen paused, before replying in a weak, barely audible croak.

"We need at least one hundred times the original estimate."

The silence this time was long–far longer than any of those previous. It continued for a minute.

Two minutes.

Five.

"...Superior?" asked the scientist weakly.

"...leave my sight."

Vexen did exactly that, hastening to the exit as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving in his wake one _extremely_ displeased Superior of the In-Between.

* * *

_[Three Days Later/Where Nothing Gathers]_

Fourteen white thrones of various heights stood in a circle around a raised platform in the center, bearing the crest of the Organization. Upon each of these thrones was seated a black-coated figure, all of whom were looking to their leader. Xemnas laced his fingers together and spoke, his voice echoing powerfully through the stainless white chamber.

"Members of the Organization XIII," he began. "I have assembled you here together to discuss what is indisputably the most significant change to befall us since our founding." He paused to allow the implications to settle in, (as well as to humor his Other's flair for the dramatic–something that he found admittedly entertaining) before continuing on. "It has come to my attention that a grave error was made in our initial assumptions of our goal. We have far longer a path to walk than we thought." There was a wave of quiet murmuring that quickly fell away as he began again. "However, this is not a fatal obstacle. We have taken measures to limit delay as much as possible, and therefore the following changes will be made. Keyblade wielders, which were once our only method of collecting hearts... are no longer our priority." There was a pause, before the other members exchanged startled looks and interested whispers, while Xemnas kept his gaze trained carefully on Axel from under his hood, noting the momentary look of concerned alarm that flashed across the pyromancer's face, accompanied by a small 'pop!' and a tiny wisp of smoke that spiraled up from his fingers as he glanced over to where numbers XIII and XIV sat, both looking just as confused. Deciding to continue before Axel did anything he would regret, (as, for all his questionable loyalties, the assassin was still a useful tool, as well as one of the only members that could be trusted not to try and backstab his way up the chain of command) the Superior cleared his throat, then carried on.

"Thanks to the work of Number IV, we have been able to create a prototype device that allows non-Keyblade wielders to collect hearts. Granted, Keyblade wielders remain our most effective method of mass-collection, but it has become too great a resource sink to continue to seek out more to join our ranks. However, on that note, there is another change that I believe you will all find quite... interesting. We of the Organization will now once again be swelling our ranks." At this, the murmuring returned in full force, each of the assembled Nobodies expressing varying degrees of interest and enthusiasm. After giving them a moment to grow quiet once more, Xemnas explained, "With the knowledge that the road ahead is long and treacherous, we may soon find a need for greater numbers then those we possess at present. That will be all for now. All of you other than Vexen, Zexion, Saïx, and Lexaeus are dismissed." Various members vanished in swirling portals of clouded black and jagged white, leaving only the five whose names Xemnas had called, each of whom knew what they were to discuss.

"What is to be done with the replica?" Lexaeus rumbled, face etched into a permanent scowl.

"Dispose of it," Saïx answered, waving a hand dismissively. "The puppet has outlived it's usefulness." At this, Vexen straightened and turned to face the Luna Diviner, outrage clearly written on his face.

"Absolutely not!" snapped the scientist in his high, cold voice. "My experiment has yet to be completed, you barbarian! Show some respect for those that labour with their minds, instead of just their brute force, as you seem so quick to!" Saïx frowned was about to retort before he was cut off by Zexion's bored drawl.

"You know, Saïx, Vexen does have a point..." He mused, leaning his head into his hand. "At this stage, the puppet no longer requires a constant stream of resources to maintain, and is stable enough to avoid any... unwanted accidents." Saïx just snorted.

"So give it to Marluxia, then," he responded. "I'm sure the Graceful Assassin could always use another doll to play with."

"Leave it as it is for now," Xemnas put the two schemers back in line before things escalated. "We will decide it's fate should the time come..."

* * *

Somewhere far away, four voices cried out in terror, before going silent all at once.

* * *

**Here we have our short background chapter. Just to share my thoughts, the idea of a heart collection device isn't exactly that far out there. We've seen multiple instances of hearts existing outside of their bodies, at least temporarily, so the possibility of collection isn't that far out of the question. Here, Vexen has essentially created a collection of tiny artificial bodies that lack minds, and thus cannot be animated even in the presence of a heart. However, this does mean that each vessel can only gather a finite number of hearts, and them being full could lead to some... unwanted Heartless attention.**

**In case anyone is wondering, Saïx's remark about Marluxia is a reference to the _Chain of Memories_ Manga adaptation, in which he has Namine suspended in the air with giant rose vines in his 'flower garden.' Give the scene a look, and you can draw your own conclusions... •_•**


	3. Chapter 2

**Title: _Ambassadors From Nowhere_**

**Description: **_**Faced with the grim discovery that Kingdom Hearts will require far more hearts then previously estimated,**_** Xemna****s**_** takes drastic measures to counteract the unanticipated obstacle–by both expanding the Organization's ranks and seeking new hunting grounds to harvest hearts. There are countless worlds just beyond where a Gummi Ship can take you–the only question is, are the Organization XIII's newest recruits ready for what demons they will encounter?**_

_**...And will the demons be ready for them?**_

**Disclaimer: I own neither Soul Eater nor Kingdom Hearts.**

* * *

**Chapter: Two - Lord Death's 'Important' Announcement (Trouble around the world?)**

_[Present/Soul &amp; Maka's Apartment]_

Soul groaned in frustration, flopping back onto his bed heavily as he stared up at the ceiling.

Maka was doing it again, and it was starting to get hard to ignore.

Sighing and heaving himself back to his feet, the teenaged Death Scythe made his way tentatively to the door, where he opened it a crack to peek out. _'Maybe she had stopped,'_ he thought to himself hopefully. _'Or maybe moved into the other room.'_

Nope.

No such luck.

Much to the albino's dismay, (and emotional pain) his mousy-headed meister hadn't budged an inch since he'd awkwardly absconded from the living room. No, she was still leaning over the railing on their little balcony, pigtails fluttering like little banners around her head as she gazed out over Death City, and the New Mexican desert beyond. Her back was to him, but he knew the girl well enough to know that her forehead was scrunched up in her little half-frown, and that she was chewing her lip like she always did when she was stressing over something, and that her usually bright eyes were dulled slightly with worry. Shutting the door again, Soul sunk to the floor, face in his hands. It was almost physically injuring him how absolutely _adorable_ Maka was when she was worried. Indeed, his instinctive reaction was to, (as uncool as it might sound) give his meister a hug, but he held back, for fear of the swift and very painful Maka Chop that he knew would be sure to follow such an act, no matter the intent.

Soul sighed again. Sure she was painfully cute, but... _damn_, the girl had_ issues_. After all, the entire reason they had needed a new apartment was because she had Maka Chopped him through the floor for trying to slack off for a fourth day in a row. Admittedly, their current accommodations in the brand new Death Scythe-reserved apartments were several steps up from their previous living conditions, but still...

He groaned again as he forced himself to his feet. It was now or never, he supposed as he placed his hand on the doorknob...

...only for the door to swing open wildly, slamming into his forehead with such force that he was sent flipping backwards to crash into his bed, knocked unconsious from the impact.

* * *

Maka stood in the doorway, one hand still on the doorknob, the other resting on her hip as she tapped her foot impatiently.

"Come on, Soul, it's time to go!" the ever-punctual meister declared as olive eyes surveyed the tangled heap of limbs and sheets that was her weapon. "We can't be late for that important meeting that Lord Death told us about!" Her eye twitched as she mistook the responding moan of pain for a snore.

* * *

Blair was humming merrily to herself as she strolled along the rooftops as a cat, belly full of fish as it was when she heard a series of pained yells, followed by someone bellowing, "GODDAMMIT SOUL, YOU LAZY BUM!"

Snickering to herself, the cat-turned-witch turned to see Soul &amp; Maka's apartment practically rocking back and forth from the sheer force of the argument.

"When will those two learn?"

* * *

_[Forty minutes later/Death Room]_

"Well, then!" Death's high, ridiculous voice rang out through the small (vast?) space as he clapped his comically overlarge hands together excitedly. "Now that we're all here..." The reaper shot a pointed glance at Maka and Soul, the latter of which was sporting a nasty-looking lump on his head, while his partner kept alternating between looking mortified at their tardiness and shooting her counterpart dirty glances every now and again. "...we can get down to important business..." The mood suddenly became serious, all eyes on The Lord of Death as he turned to his right, where Franken Stein was sitting, expression unreadable as he stared off into the distance. "Have you and Marie made it official?" There was a moment's pause, before everything burst into commotion. Marie spat out the coffee she had just swallowed, coughing as she pounded her chest frantically. Spirit and Patty giggled wildly, half from surprise, half from genuine humor, Maka, Soul Eater, Black*Star, Tsubaki, and Liz all looked at each other, mildly confused, while Stein just readjusted the giant screw that ran through his head, frowning slightly.

Death the Kid facepalmed where he stood on the Reaper's left, then tugged at his father's cloak. (carefully, so as not to shift it more to one side than the other)

"Daaa-aaad..." he pleaded embarrassedly, prompting the elder reaper to look down in confusion at his 'son'.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, turning back to Stein.

Silence, then...

"...Well, have you?"

Kid stepped forward, scowling irritably before addressing the room. "What my father is trying to say is that, in recent weeks, our sensors across the globe have recorded multiple instances of an unknown phenomenon." This brought the attention back to him. Even Black*Star stopped trying to balance a pencil on a thumbtack on his nose, (which Soul had assured him yesterday was the swiftest path to godhood) to listen. "They both take in and expel ambient energy, but the latter is decidedly foreign to this world." The young reaper paused as he gestured to a large map that hung on a blackboard behind him, covered with pushpins. "But," he continued with an air of deadly seriousness. "More importantly, we have come to the conclusion that these are portals of some sort. Unstable, and mostly incapable of allowing matter to pass through unchanged, but still portals." He let that sink in for a moment. "We are unsure of their nature, but it is most likely that these are tentative first attempts at bridging our plane with wherever they came from." Gesturing to the map, he pointed at one yellow pushpin. "This was the first instance. Nothing really remarkable about it. However, these next few..." he moved his finger to a cluster of yellows. "...these were more interesting. The first few opened either above or below ground, and vanished after a few seconds, while the later ones, each of which opened at or just slightly above ground level remained open for a minute or more each. Now, here..." He pointed to a green pushpin. "We have their first attempt at establishing a spatial link. We investigated, and there was a bowl-shaped depression in the land, along with what appears to be some some sort of smokey black residue. Now, there was one before this, but it appeared in the Atlantic, only and closed only a second after opening, so it is safe to assume that whoever is opening these links was aiming to appear on dry land." He stopped as Maka raised her hand.

"Is there any way we can predict when the next of these portals will open? Maybe we can find out what's doing this..." she trailed off as Kid shook his head.

"I'm afraid..." he said moving to point at a single solitary red pushpin positioned somewhere in Europe. "...that whatever it was making those portals has already succeeded in crossing over."

The Death Room was silent after that.

* * *

_[One week previously/Vexen's Laboratory]_

"And with that..." the blonde Nobody flipped a switch from a control panel in one corner of the room, which caused humming noises to emanate from a large, spherical contraption on a raised dais in the center of the room, a set of stairs leading up to it. The sheer had retracted half of it's surface, revealing a swirling collection of black and purple power. Vexen turned to where Saïx stood, scowling. "...it's ready."

Saïx nodded, and Vexen pressed a series of buttons, prompting the machine to rumble, before the portal solidified, and began to churn out a flood of saltwater and some (very confused-looking) fish which promptly descended upon the Luna Diviner, washing him backwards down the hall as Vexen frantically attempted to turn the machine off. Finally punching in a string of commands into a keyboard, the scientist managed to kill the engine, instantly stopping the flood of water.


	4. Chapter 3

**Title: _Ambassadors From Nowhere_**

**Description: **_**Faced with the grim discovery that Kingdom Hearts will require far more hearts then previously estimated, Xemnas takes drastic measures to counteract the unanticipated obstacle–by both expanding the Organization's ranks and seeking new hunting grounds to harvest hearts. There are countless worlds just beyond where a Gummi Ship can take you–the only question is, are the Organization XIII's newest recruits ready for what demons they will encounter?**_

_**...And will the demons be ready for them?**_

**Disclaimer: I own neither Soul Eater nor Kingdom Hearts.**

* * *

**Chapter: Three - "Collision" (A demon, by any other name...)**

**Announcement:** **Just as a little note, I'm going to put the text references here. You guys probably know the drill.****  
**

"Xercia." = Normal speech/sound effect

_'Oh, for the love of...'_ = Thoughts/Telepathy or other nonverbal communication

_~"Shut up!"~ _= Speech in weapon form

**"Fira!"** = Using magic

_**"WITCH HUNTER!"**_ = Resonance techniques

_**"Ripple Displacement."**_ = Limit Breaks

_[Present day/Venice, Italy]_

_'It's too hot,__'_ was the first thought on Xechalim's mind as he made his way along the bustling Venetian sidewalk. His particular choice in clothing was earning the young Nobody more then a few odd looks and raised eyebrows from locals as they passed by–not that he paid them any mind. The black coat was already damp with sweat from the hot sun beating down on him relentlessly, and he was panting slightly under the cruel oven of his raised hood. Still, he managed to drag his eyes up beyond the dirty sidewalk before his feet and take note of the sights and sounds and smells that were all around him. Upon emerging from the Dark Corridor into the city, the first thing that had hit him after the initial shock from the heat had passed was the sheer _presence_ of the water. All around him, the boy could feel the currents swirling, pushing and tugging against one another lazily as they flowed back and forth, around every corner, and even beneath him, all quietly acknowledging his mind brushing their existence in a manner that could never be comprehended fully. The tide in this city was calm, he decided, thinking back to the endless stagnation of the Atlantican deep sea, and the weak, defeated resignation of the oasis lakes in Agrabah. (The latter of which he still had nightmares about.)

Xechalim was shaken from his concentration when he felt something tingle at the edges of his awareness. A familiar, sickening wriggle of black negativity lurking somewhere nearby. His eyes narrowed, and his gloved right hand closed instinctively, moisture in the surrounding air poised and ready to gather and form Tidechanger's comfortable weight. He quickened his steps, senses sharpening as he felt the bundle of bloodthirsty instinct and mindless cruelty carefully tucked away at the back of his mind begin to stir in its' slumber, roused by the faint scent of anticipation. Even if it was strictly a reconnaissance mission he'd been assigned to, if the Heartless were becoming active, then it was time to intervene. As he felt another tingle join the first, and those two followed by third, he broke into a brisk jog, rounding a corner and running into something solid, bouncing backwards to crash on his rear with a sharp "Ernf!"

The Nobody boy looked up to see what it was that he had hit, only to be caught squarely upside the eyes with a shocking splash of electric blue directly to his retina. Blinking slightly to clear the afterimage, Xechalim saw that what he had at first taken to be a wayward lightning bolt was actually a head of unruly hair, sticking out askew at odd angles. This vivid, utterly conspicuous mane was positioned atop the head of a boy that couldn't have been much older than he was, who was clothed in a black sleeveless shirt and white shorts, displaying a heavily tones body as will as a strange, star-shaped scar (try saying that five times fast) on his left shoulder. The boy was rubbing his forehead while cursing under his breath.

"Owww..." he grumbled, propping himself up on his arm to hold a hand to his bruised tailbone. "Jeez, buddy–the hell are you _made_ of?" Xechalim was debating whether or not apologizing would violate his mission parameters when he heard another voice speak up from behind the boy, hurried footsteps growing louder.

"Black*Star!" the voice called out, sounding worried and decidedly female. The young Nobody looked up to see a tall, slender girl dressed in a cream-colored uniform running up from ahead, dark hair tied up in a long ponytail. "I told you not to go running off ahead–now look!" She bent over him, huffing. "You could've been hurt!"

The apparently-named 'Black*Star' grinned widely up at her from where he sat on the cobbled road, giving a short guffaw before declaring, "Me? Injured from bumping into some guy? Don't you know who it is that you're talking to, Tsubaki?!" Xechalim didn't but he had a funny feeling he was about to as the boy went on. "I'm the great assassin Black*Star, the weapon meister who will surpass God!" The water-manipulating boy blinked vacantly from beneath his hood as he saw Tsubaki sigh and smile to herself, then turn to face him, prompting him to blanch slightly with apprehension. The girl took a deep breath in, clapped her hands together before her, then–to Xechalim's shock and bewilderment–began bowing rapidly to him, speaking so quickly it took him a moment to interpret what she was saying.

"-andI'mtrulyverysorryaboutthatitwasunspeakablyrudepleasedon'tholdmycompanionaccountableforitheisn'talwaysthebestatmakingdecisionssorry-" she rattled off frantically, not even stopping for breath, until she paused to glare over at Black*Star. "-we're very, very sorry about that, aren't we, Black*Star?" The blue-haired boy nodded absently, (giving Xechalim the impression that he hadn't understood a word of his partner's apology. Tsubaki turned back to the black-coated Nobody, who rose to his feet, and, for lack of any better ideas gave a short bow and made a placating gesture.

"It's fine," he mumbled gruffly, before holding back the urge to curse as he noticed that the Heartless presence had grown close to tripling whilst he had been preoccupied. Slipping around the pair, he broke into a run towards the disturbance, rounding a few turns and quickening his pace as he felt the primal consciousness take notice of him. At the barest of unspoken commands, water rushed through the air and concentrated around his palm, accompanied by a brief flash of blue light as it took on the form of a long metal pole of azure steel. The weapon was lined with patterns of rippling silver, branching out at one end to form the wicked spiked cross half of the Organization's insignia, and from the other side sprouted an enormous, lethal-looking axeblade. The axe was still thrumming with the ebb and flow of the tide even in it's steel form, drowning out the maddening crimson drone of the battle-song. And so it was that Xechalim rounded a corner and, with the ever-present melody of the water echoing around him, and the scream of bloodlust in his ears, arrived at a plaza that lay empty save for the swarm of Heartless Shadows massing to attack.

* * *

_[Meanwhile/Back with Tsubaki and Black*Star...]_

Tsubaki frowned, watching the retreating back of the strange person as he rounded a corner out of sight. _'What was that about?'_ she asked herself, puzzled, until her partner's voice shook her from her thoughts.

"What a weirdo," the boy remarked, rolling his shoulder to ease out the bruise he'd received. "I wonder where he's running off to so fast?" Tsubaki rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

"At least he knew where he was going _before_ he took off sprinting, Black*Star!" she huffed, brow scrunched up with frustration. "You didn't bother to even try and sense where the disturbance was before you started moving.

Her meister fixed her with an indignant stare, stating boldly, "Tsubaki, you _know _that I can't reach godhood if I stop moving forward." He trailed off, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. "But... I guess I might have gotten a little carried away there..." he admitted sheepishly. The weapon girl's eyebrows shot up as she regarded Black*Star with mild shock.

_'Is this a sign of the apocalypse?'_ she wondered despite herself. _'Maybe that crash knocked something loose inside that head of his...?'_ Sighing, she pushed such musings aside for the moment, instead focusing on her senses to reach out for the target of their mission. Sensing a faint pulse from somewhere off to the south, (exactly the opposite direction of the way Black*Star had been heading) she turned back to her partner. "Come on," she told him, pointing down the alley. "It's over there, the way that...boy..." As a hand of cold dread gripped her, she noticed Black*Star tense up, understanding her sudden apprehension. Making a subtle hand gesture, her partner spoke quietly, voice instantly serious.

"Tsubaki," he said, prompting the girl to nod, her form rippling and glowing with a golden light as she shifted into the form of a short, deadly-looking ninjatō. Black*Star caught the weapon, already moving forward as he sensed the faint traces of an unfamiliar energy echoing through the link, speeding up as they both felt a strong pulse of power near the same place. After a mad dash in silence, the pair found themselves at the edge of an open square. Before them, a battle was already unfolding between the black-coated boy from before and what appeared to be enormous, yellow-eyed ant creatures. Their skin was black as pitch, their antennae twitched and wriggled unsettlingly, and the way they brandished their dagger-like claws and hurled themselves at the boy in inky masses belied their deceptive stature and build–but it was their eyes–eyes that held nothing but raw hunger in their sickly yellow sheen–that made Tsubaki certain they'd earned themselves a place in her nightmares. They scuttled about individually to and fro, but when they gathered, they almost seemed to flow like liquid in a writhing flood of darkness and eyes, always surging towards their foe. The boy in the cloak spun his axe between his hands and gripped it tightly, whipping it around to smash down violently on the flagstones behind him, the creature that had been caught beneath the blade bursting into a thick, oily fog and a flash of light. There was a streak of something that shone brightly leaving the vessel, trailing twinkles of golden light, before the boy caught it and it vanished in his fingers.

_~"Black*Star..."~_ Tsubaki left the question unfinished, knowing that he, too had seen what she had. The action was uncannily similar to the way some beings drew out human souls from deceased vessels.

Beings like Prekishins.

"..." Her meister didn't answer, but she could feel his thoughts racing–could see the almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes–and was certain he shared her suspicions. However, any breakthroughs or potential accusations were put on hold moments later as a stream of the creatures broke off from the rest of the group and began making a beeline for the duo. Fortunately, as fast the inhuman things were, they could not match Black*Star's godly speed, which became clear as the ninja boy darted around and behind them, several quick swipes from ninjatō reducing their number to less than half by the time they had even registered his presence. Seconds later, the group was gone, with only clouds of purple smoke remaining, before glowing, twinkling balls of swirling light ejected themselves from the dispelling remains of the creatures. Black*Star closed his eyes and focused on them, reaching out with his soul to feel for the strange orbs as the floated to the figure, tracking them to the outstretched hand before losing them as they simply vanished from all his senses into the stranger's palm. He was about to ask Tsubaki if she had any ideas when he was struck with sudden realization that jarred him from his concentration. Hurriedly slamming his eyes back shut, he searched for confirmation of what he had felt.

_'That cinches it,'_ he thought to himself before speaking to his partner in a low voice. "Tsubaki." The weapon responded almost instantly, her face, bathed in an inner golden glow appearing in the reflection of the blade.

_~"What is it?"~_

"That guy..." he responded, prompting Tsubaki to direct her attention to where the individual in the black coat stood. A moment later, she let out a soft gasp of shock; confirming Black*Star's observation.

_~"I can't feel... _anything_! He doesn't have a soul!"~_ she exclaimed. Black*Star nodded in affirmation, tightening his grip on the ninjatō's hilt.

"Is he a threat?" Four words, given in assassin's terminology. No assumptions or statements, just an unsigned writ of execution. A promise to take a life regardless of obstacles. Tsubaki found herself marveling for a moment in just how far her meister had come since she'd met him. While he still retained the same proud, arrogant, impulsive tendencies, the weapon girl found herself noticing more and more those brief moments of cool rationality and deadly seriousness. It seemed, these days that each time he declared his intentions of usurping God, those claims seemed just a bit less ridiculous. Returning back to the moment, Tsubaki replied carefully, senses trained on the mysterious individual.

_~"Not yet. We don't know anything about him, save for that he's strong..."~_ Black*Star nodded slowly, eyes still trained on the figure intently.

"So... what you're saying is that it's like when we first met Mifune?" he asked slowly. Tsubaki blinked, pausing before she decided it was at least a somewhat accurate comparison between the meister's sparring partner and this new enigma.

_~"Yes, I suppose, but what does-"~_ She was cut off by her meister tensed.

"Right, then." Suddenly they were hurtling forward, too fast for her to immediately process.

* * *

Xechalim whirled around, his axe sweeping around behind him to kill any of the Shadows that were too slow to dodge. Thrusting it out in front of him, he speared one with the spike on top of Tidechanger before twirling it over his shoulder to bat away the claws of one Heartless that had tried to sneak up on him. A large group massed into a stream and began flowing towards him. His axe was already in motion, flashing around him in a horizontal arc the cleaved those at the front in two and scattered the survivors. Holding up his hand, the Nobody boy felt the hearts, freed from their captors, come soaring towards him, traveling through his cloak down into the device that rested in one of his inner coat pockets, warmth filtering through the black material as the precious resources were collected and stored away safely. Hearing the whistling of an object moving at high speeds coming from behind him. Twisting his head sharply, Xechalim saw the remaining Shadows gathering into a massive wave to charge him all at once, a solid wall of inky black and luminous yellow rising up twice as tall as he was. The boy's lips twitched, drawing back slightly to reveal a glimpse of bared teeth. His pupils dilated almost imperceptibly, and his pulse quickened, a growing drumbeat to accompany the building cries of the blood-song. His grip tightened, gloved fingers curling tightly around Tidechanger with a strength that would have crushed any metal other than the blue and silver steel formed from his own shattered soul. Time seemed to hang for a moment, and in that time a flicker of rational thought flashed through the growing red haze. The whistling had not receded; it seemed to be growing.

The collection of Heartless exploded.

Shadows were sent flying every which way, some vaporized from the initial impact, others dispelling as they slammed into the sides of buildings or crashed to the cobblestones. Standing at the epicenter of the impact was the same blue-haired boy from before, grasping a japanese dagger, glaring intently at Xechalim. Both were silent for a moment. The blue-haired boy's face was an unreadable mask of emotions foreign to the heartless boy. Then, as he seemed to come to a decision, he raised his arm slowly. The nobody tensed, bracing for an attack, only to be surprised as the strange kid suddenly jabbed his finger out to point at him.

"You." He took a deep breath in, then hollered out at the top of his lungs.

"FIGHT ME!"

* * *

**Ah, Black*Star... God bless you for being so over-the-top and fun to write. You have no idea how tempted I was at multiple times to just skip straight to a fight scene here. Thankfully, I was able to hold off on that. The dynamic between Black*Star and Tsubaki has become my favorite ever since I re-watched the show recently. **

**Also, I'm really sorry for not having updated in... how long has it been? *Checks date* OH-KAY, WE'RE JUST GOING TO PRETEND THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN, but no, seriously. To my (probably nonexistent) readers, I'm really sorry about that. Life, medication, and school just kept getting in the way of my writing time. **

**On a side note, I did some collab work with 4fireking a while back, and that was fun. Really, go check out his work. Also, if it isn't too much to ask, could I get a review? I want to know what parts thus far are working and which aren't. (My bet's on the humor. Never was my strong suit.) So feel free to leave a review on your way out. Also, tell me how you got here, please. Until next time, this is Scarlet Warhawk, signing off.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Title: ****_Ambassadors From Nowhere_**

**Description: **_**Faced with the grim discovery that Kingdom Hearts will require far more hearts then previously estimated, Xemnas takes drastic measures to counteract the unanticipated obstacle–by both expanding the Organization's ranks and seeking new hunting grounds to harvest hearts. There are countless worlds just beyond where a Gummi Ship can take you–the only question is, are the Organization XIII's newest recruits ready for what demons they will encounter?**_

_**...And will the demons be ready for them?**_

**Disclaimer: I own neither Soul Eater nor Kingdom Hearts.**

* * *

**Chapter: Four - "It Begins" (The Knucklehead vs The Nobody!)**

"FIGHT ME!"

The challenge echoed around the square. Black*Star hadn't moved from his position since issuing the challenge. His arm was still extended to point at the enigmatic figure standing a few meters away, his muscles quivering with anticipation. Xechalim, for his part, hadn't moved either; although in his case it was more so out of confusion than nervous tension. The silence continued for a lengthy pause, as both parties stood perfectly still. Then the black-coated Nobody shattered the building atmosphere by posing a question confusedly.

"...huh?"

With the spell broken Tsubaki immediately face-faulted from the plane within her weapon form, burying her reddening face in her hands to hide her humiliation.

Black*Star scowled impatiently. "Well?"

Xechalim was honestly torn. On one hand, this was supposed to be a covert reconnaissance mission. Saïx had expressly stated that on multiple locations. On the other, though, there was that little beast in the back of his mind that was itching for violence. The Shadows had barely taken the edge off of his battle-lust–much less satisfied it–and this newcomer seemed like a powerful warrior.

"Come on, hurry up!" the Meister urged. His insistence was met with a total lack of reaction from the cloaked stranger. Anticipation started to give way to insulted aggravation. "The stupendous Black*Star has challenged you to a battle, so let's go already! I haven't got all day!"

The mysterious youth focussed his gaze on the Meister, and Black*Star could have sworn he felt the air begin to hum with power.

"Alright then," he said, sliding into a ready stance, his massive axe held parallel to his side with no visible effort. "Let's do this!"

Black*Star grinned wildly and launched himself forwards, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Stunned, Xechalim barely managed to stop a lightning-fast swipe of the Meister's short sword by bringing up Tidechanger's shaft to parry the blow. Unfazed, the ninja boy mounted an immediate counterattack, reversing his grip on Tsubaki to bring the dagger down in a horizontal strike–inflicting a shallow cut on Xechalim's upper arm.

_'...fast!'_ the Nobody thought to himself as his foe continued to retaliate. Pressing his offensive with a rapid series of short strikes, Black*Star used the unwieldy size of his opponent's weapon to his advantage, keeping the battle up close where the cloaked youth was unable to block all of the attacks, causing more and more attacks to outmaneuver his guard–his coat beginning to show a record of all the times he'd been too slow to react.

Seeing an opportunity as the stranger batted another attack off to the left–misplacing his foot and tripping to the side–Black*Star darted forwards, angling to stab his ninjatō at the unguarded chest of his black-cloaked enemy. _'Got him!'_

Xechalim's eyes widened beneath his hood, and his leg snapped up and reared out instinctively in a wild, sloppy back-kick. _'Crap!'_

The ninja boy saw his enemy launch the blow, and braced his chest to tank the hit, knowing his strength training could let him take punches with the force of sledgehammer strikes while still retaining the necessary momentum to land his attack.

Consequently, the kick hit him like a freight train.

Catching him square in the chest, the impact of the strike forced the air from Black*Star's lungs and propelled him backwards to crash into the brick walls of one of the nearby buildings. He fell to his knees as he bounced violently to the tiled pavement like some kind of twisted doll. Sucking wind and coughing uncontrollably, the Meister fought to refocus his reeling mind.

The first sound that registered in his stunned brain was that of Tsubaki shouting a warning. He looked up to see the cloaked boy descending upon him with a fearsome cry, his blue axe swinging down to cleave the ninja in two. Throwing himself to the side, Black*Star leaped to his–slightly unsteady–feet a few paces away. This proved to be a second miscalculation, as when his foe's attack struck the stone, the pavement exploded in a shower of dust and rubble, the shockwave blasting Black*Star off his feet yet again.

Choking back a shocked expletive, he landed catlike on all fours, staring at the clearing dust cloud unbelievingly as the black-coated boy hefted his weapon over his shoulder–edge not dulled in the slightest–and stepped out of the wide crater in the ground. _'What the hell?'_ he wondered silently. The boy's brute strength was incredible–especially considering his scrawny frame.

_~"Black*Star,"~_ Tsubaki spoke worriedly, her voice echoing out from the blade of her dagger form. _~"Be careful. Unless you can avoid being hit, don't go into close combat with this guy. Although,"~_ she continued, glancing at the cloaked boy's massive axe. _~"I wouldn't risk mid-range either. With his strength, I don't even want to think about what he can do with his weapon."~_

Straightening up, Black*Star eyed his opponent warily. "In that case," he began. "Tsubaki! Kusarigama mode!"

_~"Right!"~_ The short dagger glowed and warped into a long, flexible shape as blue-haired boy took off running at his opponent, not waiting for Tsubaki to fully reveal her form before he hurled a golden crescent at the figure in the cloak. Xechalim hopped back out of range of the projectile only to spot the shimmering golden rope that trailed along behind it. Black*Star grinned triumphantly.

"Got you!" the meister declared as he yanked on the length of spooled chain in his hand. The rapid motion flicked away the golden glow that surrounded the weapon, and revealed the lethal shape of a chain kama that swung around to lash at the Nobody.

Catching Xechalim off guard, the blade flew towards him with deadly precision. Cursing to himself, the hooded boy extended his arm, which began to glow with white light.

"Reflect!" he barked, calling an array of shimmering hexagons into existence to surround him in a protective sphere. The kusarigama struck the barrier and glanced off harmlessly to clatter to the flagstones. Black*Star's eyes practically bugged out of his head.

"What!?" he yelled as the shield dissipated, the black coated boy regaining his footing. With a sharp tug of the chain the kama came spinning back to Black*Star's hand.

_~"That might not be the only thing he can do,"~_ Tsubaki cautioned him. _~"We don't know what other tricks he has."~_ The meister's gaze was trained intently on his foe as he let one kama and a length of chain hang loose, spinning it around faster and faster. In a burst of motion, Black*Star sent one of the kusarigama's ends arcing at the Nobody. Xechalim batted the blade away with the flat of his axeblade only to notice the other end whipping down towards him from above. Throwing himself to one side, he was forced to use Reflect again to ward off a third and fourth strike, a fifth already on its way.

The blue haired meister's hands blurred and twisted as he twirled Tsubaki around expertly. The kusarigama's chains surrounded him in arcs of steel, lashing out unexpectedly to keep Xechalim off balance. Beneath his hood, the Nobody grinned. It was getting harder and harder to keep up with the exotic weapon's erratic patterns, and he had already been forced to use around two-tenths of his magic reserves with those Reflect spells. Time to step things up.

Tidechanger twirled with impossible speed for it's size as the Nobody parried sweeping strikes from both kamas. With the breathing room that bought him, Xechalim yelled, spinning his battle-axe over his head and into the pavement where the weapon imbedded itself. Black*Star tensed, unsure of what to expect until he felt the ground under his feet rumble and he rolled to the side instinctively. He was just in time to avoid the towering column of water that erupted from beneath the road, rushing upwards with incredible force before it rained down to earth in a wide puddle. The meister looked back to the stranger with a cocky smirk.

"What're you gonna do with that?" he taunted, the water draining away into the hole it had burst from. "Splash some water at me?"

Xechalim's grin never left his face. Instead, the young Organization member tore his weapon from the ground and thrust his free arm into the air. Fissures began to sprout around the hole as a loud roar announced the arrival of flood of water rushing from the cracks, crashing together to form a massive wall that raged and frothed, building in size and intensity. Xechalim launched himself upwards, the water swirling around him until he was left perched atop the stationary wave.

"Something like that, yeah," the Nobody shouted down over the bellowing of the water, laughing aloud as he slashed Tidechanger through the air in front of him. The wave surged forwards in a torrent of destructive power that bore down on the meister.

Black*Star didn't bother with talk–instead he ran at a wall and pushed off of it, propelling himself to land on a nearby roof. The surge crashed against the buildings but failed to climb beyond the second story, instead rushing down the streets and alleys out of the plaza. Spotting the powerful stranger, the ninja boy stared intently and tightened his grip.

"Tsubaki," he said, addressing the girl's reflection in the blade of the kama. "Let's show this clown; Speed Star!"

"Hai!" In a flash that lasted a few seconds, Black*Star was left once again holding Tsubaki's ninjatō form as he tensed, leaning forwards. Then he extended his legs, vanished in a flicker and reappeared back on the ground in the blink of an eye.

Xechalim watched the kid transform his weapon again, wary of his next trick despite the fact that he had switched back to the knife from before. Spreading his fingers and holding his arm out to the side, the hydromancer focused on the puddles that had settled all around the square. Streams of water extended from them to gather in his palm, joining and spinning until a small sphere of compressed liquid began to take shape, growing with each passing second. The two fighters watched each other, readying their respective strikes. The shorter of the two grinned.

"So what do I call you?" he asked.

"Why the sudden interest?" was the guarded response from the concealed enemy.

Black*Star just laughed cockily. "I need to know who I'm bragging about beating tomorrow!"

Xechalim cracked an impudent smirk, biting back, "Well, when they asked you who kicked your ass, you can call me Sixteen."

"As if!"

The nobody blanched. "Oh, great;now I can't stop imagining you with a ponytail and an eyepatch."

"...what?"

"Oh, uh... Nevermind."

"Whatever, 'Sixteen.' Less talking, more me kicking your ass!"

"I could say the same for you, 'Black Star'!"

Then there was a sound like a whisper and a rush of air. Both pairs of eyes–widening yellow-blue and narrowing dark green–searched for the source of the noise. They both saw it at the same time. Standing on a rooftop that overlooked the square was a figure wearing an oversized version of the same uniform as the hydromancer. His hood was also up, obscuring his features. Two different trains of thought progressed.

_'Huh? Who the hell is this guy? Is he with Sixteen?'_ –Black*Star.

_'Celax. Shit.'_ –Xechalim.

The newcomer didn't move, silently surveying the results of the battle on the now-ruined plaza. A shadowed gaze from beneath the hood landed on the pair of warriors. Then it slid over to rest solely on Xechalim. The Nobody in question grimaced as he descended from his adrenaline high and turned towards his comrade.

"So, did you finish up your job, or..." he tried in a casual manner.

"Yes," Celax replied bluntly. His voice betrayed nothing but the barest hint of exasperation. Xechalim relaxed imperceptibly. His stealthy ally wasn't as annoyed as he could have been. It was always a nice change of pace when the slightly shorter Nobody _wasn't_ being a total hard-ass.

"Andt would seem that you have, too," observed Celax dryly.

'Total' of course being the imperative word here.

As the two coworkers exchanged those pleasantries, Black*Star looked on in confusion and mounting annoyance. They were ignoring him! He _hated_ being ignored!

"Yeah, well I just got a little... sidetracked. Y'know?"

"Like that time in the Beast's Castle?"

"Yeah, like that time in- Wait, no!"

Celax let out a long sigh. "Combat addict."

"Soulless emo," Xechalim shot back without missing a beat.

"Does my hair look _grey_ from that angle?"

"I dunno. Can't see it past your depressingly black outfit."

"We're wearing the same uniform."

"I know. And I really wish I wasn't right now. Seriously, can you not feel temperature or something?"

"Funny. But we should really get going now."

"Alright. Sure." The axe-wielding Nobody waved his hand in front of him, and a warped mass of shadows and nothingness blossomed out of thin air. As the hydromancer stepped forwards into the gateway, Black*Star reacted, bursting into motion with a shout!

"Coward!" he hollered angrily. "Get back here- whoah!" The meister blurred to the side just in the nick of time. A stream of pressurized liquid flashed out from Xechalim's hand, striking the stone floor and carving a furrow of pulverized rock into it. Not one to be deterred, the ninja quickly retaliated. He lunged for the Nobody at invisible speeds, dagger whistling against the wind as it slashed at his retreating back.

"Clang!" Black*Star blinked when Tsubaki collided with something distinctly not-human. Instead of cutting deep into her target like she should have, the girl's trajectory had been intercepted by a long, curved sword made of some onyx metal. Both sides of the thin blade were razor-sharp and the scimitar's elegant shape seemed almost plain other than the hilt. The handle was shaped like one of the spikes on the first stranger's axe. The hand that held it wore a black glove and was connected to the arm and form of the newcomer, faint wisps of black ash drifting away from him. Black*Star hadn't felt him approach, nor had he heard any of the displacement of air that _should_ have been the telltale warning of an object moving that fast.

"What-? How did you do that?"

"..." came the silent reply. Black*Star's brow furrowed and he pushed against the stranger's guard. Then he heard Tsubaki hiss in surprise.

_~"Ah!"~_

Disengaging and hopping back several paces, Black*Star glanced at his dagger in alarm. Tsubaki's voice drifted back confusedly.

_~"It's... It's alright;I'm fine. It didn't... _hurt_, exactly, but it just felt... wrong..."~_ the transformed girl relayed, shuddering a little at the experience.

"That's an interesting weapon you have there," the stranger remarked as his comrade was swallowed up by the dark gateway. "You wouldn't be willing to trade for it, would you?"A hand–crackling with arcs of eerie lightning–tore through the Nobody's chest, only to end up clutching at a vanishing haze of mist. Snarling, the meister wheeled around to find the boy standing there idly. "You know," he drawled. "You could have just said 'no.'"

"Screw you!"

"I think I'll pass-" Black*Star's hand once again ripped through his new opponent–in what should have been a lethal strike–and once again the ninja was left with nothing but dark wisps and ash. Suddenly, the meister's well-honed battle senses came alive with warnings that screamed to him of an attack that was about to land. The next instant saw him having snapped Tsubaki to block, only to find nothing there. Tsubaki–on the other hand–yelped in pain.

_~"I-I felt that...?"~_ the raven-haired demon weapon wondered aloud from the astral state within her weapon form. She twisted, pressing a hand to her side. Then she winced and draw it back smeared with blood. _~"What in the world...?"~_

"Tsubaki!" the blue-haired meister exclaimed before turning to spot the black-coated figure. "What the hell was that!" he spat furiously. "I'm going to kill you!"

"I don't think so." The words drifted hollow, the boy having somehow slipped away into the space between passing seconds. The ninja boy looked around, enraged.

"Who the hell are you?" he yelled into the silence.

"...You can call me... Fifteen," the silence whispered back.

* * *

_[?/?]_

Laughter.

Everywhere–from every place at once–came the echo. That awful, wretched sound that was equal parts thought-consuming joy and heart-devouring sorrow. It was like a madman's last scream gasped out from failing lips. A convulsion of the lungs, perverting what should have been something full of emotion and turning it into something ghastly and hollow. The wind carried it, letting it race upon the breeze into every nook and cranny, through every ear, deep into every pore. Like a harsh gust of the warm, sticky air of a summer night, seeping into the skin and spreading it's madness .

A thousand thoughts away, in a hundred different places, a multitude of red eyes snapped open, awoken by the wind's laugh. They could feel the madness of the Wind-Sound ringing in their souls and the ruby flesh of the twisted fruit within quivered and squirmed. They slavered and writhed with teeth and tongues and claws and tails, all seeking the Wind. And then they heard it and froze.

Laughter.

It was the laughter of the Madness, yes. Twisted and demented beyond all hope of reason or sense.

But not _their_ Madness.

Not the Madness of humanity.

This was not that.

This was a laugh with nothing at it's core.

No anger.

No joy.

No sorrow.

None of the human emotions, twisted and torn into wicked evil.

This was the Madness of the empty one.

The madness of the Nothing atop the cliff, overlooking the vast, churning chaos before it and howling into the storm.

The Madness of the Wind's laughter, empty and incomplete, screaming for it's nothingness to become as one with the maelstrom, and consume the world to become whole.

The Madness of shrieking into the abyss to be heard, and for that voice to be swallowed up by the scream of the infinite.

The Madness of assimilation into the incomprehensible.

The Madness of oblivion.

The wind began to sing and the laugh danced along.

* * *

**Hey there, anyone who reads this. As a side note: yes, those were hearts that Xechalim was extracting from Pureblood Heartless. That will be explained next chapter, and the relationship between the Heart and Soul will come in probably the chapter after that. Suffice it to say, the reason that Black*Star and Tsubaki couldn't sense Xechalim was not because of what he is, but rather because of the coat.**

**I've actually been doing a lot more work recently, but I've been jumping between projects in a sort of a weird way, so there's that. I've made some progress on 'After the Game,' and I have a pretty substantial new idea that I might continue if I feel like it. I got the idea from 4fireking. **

**Medication has been screwing me over recently. Side effects getting worse, inconsistent effectiveness, and other stuff like that, so the depression spells have been getting more frequent.**

**If you feel like it, leave a review. I really appreciate anything I can get in the way of feedback. Also, give 4fireking's 'Soul and Property' a try. It can be a bit jarring to start, but it really improves as it goes along. He brought me in at chapter 14 and on, so maybe see how that goes. **


	6. Chapter 5

**Title: ****_Ambassadors From Nowhere_**

**Description: **_**Faced with the grim discovery that Kingdom Hearts will require far more hearts then previously estimated, Xemnas takes drastic measures to counteract the unanticipated obstacle–by both expanding the Organization's ranks and seeking new hunting grounds to harvest hearts. There are countless worlds just beyond where a Gummi Ship can take you–the only question is, are the Organization XIII's newest recruits ready for what demons they will encounter?**_

_**...And will the demons be ready for them?**_

**Disclaimer: I own neither Soul Eater nor Kingdom Hearts.**

* * *

**Chapter: Five - "Interesting" (The face behind the foe?)**

_[The Realm of Darkness]_

Both Xechalim and Celax were silent as they walked ever forwards through the passageway of swirling shadows, their footsteps swallowed up greedily by the ambient rasps and whispers of the dark world they traversed. Xechalim felt tendrils of darkness reach through the tears in his coat to burn at his skin with icy flame and resisted the urge to wince in pain. To show weakness in this plane of monsters would be to place them both in danger. Normally it would not matter as the Heartless cared little of Nobodies, but thanks to the cargo he carried within his jet-black coat he was arousing unwanted attention. Steeling his resolve, Xechalim tapped into the willpower that sustained his hollow core and let his conviction permeate the space around him like a shield and felt the shadows recede from his presence reluctantly, merging with the walls once again. What the empty being possessed was only of passing interest to them, anyways. It was the light that they sought to consume and snuff out entirely; the nothingness held only emptiness for them. Up ahead, the darkness warped and twisted, surging outwards to connect with their destination in a mirrored gateway. Xechalim felt Celax materialize the Nothingness in twisting arcs of jagged grey and silver–thornbeams–that threaded into the darkness and took control of it to allow the two Nobodies passage. They emerged from the Dark Corridor–which collapsed behind them in an oily whirl of black and purple–and looked at their surroundings.

The room was small and lit with portable lamps. There were no windows and the walls were made of brown clay. Positioned to one side of the space was a couch, stools and a coffee table, while the other side held a well-illuminated desk covered with papers and thick folders. The center of the room held a large table and a short staircase led to a small area of higher elevation composed of a row of cabinets and various kitchen equipment. To the far side of that area was a simple door that led to parts unknown. All of the furnishings seemed to be `old and worn except for the large device off to one corner that appeared shiny and futuristic, adorned with knobs and levers and other controls that none of them knew the names of.

"Home sweet home," Celax deadpanned, making his way over to the desk. Xechalim grunted in agreement and walked towards the stairs. His arm reached up to rake through his wild mane of windswept brown hair and let his hood fall away, letting the light display his laid-back boyish features and cerulean eyes emblazoned with a tiny yellow starburst pattern around each of the boy's pupils. As the Nobody approached the steps, he saw a flicker in the shadows out of the corner of his eye. Whirling, Xechalim dodged out of the path of a smoky black haze in the shape of a hand that extended from the wall, grasping at him hungrily with clawed fingertips.

"Heartless? Here?!" Xechalim exclaimed, voice spiked with alarm. His compatriot sidestepped a second dark hand, shaking his head as he replied.

"No." Xechalim was about to ask him what he meant when the appendages faded away. A section of the shadows on the wall darkened unnaturally, amassing themselves in a splotch of inky black that swelled and detached itself from the surface. Colour began to bleed through the silhouette, revealing the form of a young girl garbed in the same black cloak as the two boys. Unkempt russet tresses cascaded down her shoulders and back like a crashing waterfall and her face was set into a harsh scowl.

"What took you so long?" she demanded irritably, her high voice bubbling with frustration and barely-restrained impudence. "Was Sweets off having vacation fun while the rest of us actually did work?" Xechalim frowned as she used that stupid nickname.

"Oh, screw off, Xercia," the brown-haired axe-wielder retorted in annoyance. Xercia just folded her arms.

"Really?" she snorted. "You can't take someone calling you out on being a little kid with zero attention span?" Xechalim's eyes narrowed. That was both needlessly aggressive and uncalled for, which–coupled with his yet-unsatisfied bloodlust and the spike of adrenaline from being attacked–was resulting in a desire for confrontation he wasn't willing to curb.

"What are you talking about?" he asked sharply. The Nobody girl sneered.

"Are you only an idiot when you want to be, or is that just who you are?"

Taking a threatening step forwards that brought him within a foot of the orange-haired Nobody, Xechalim jabbed an accusatory finger at her. Their proximity highlighted the disparity in height between the two, which placed the hydromancer a good couple inches above his female coworker and forced her to tilt head upwards slightly to meet his eye. She managed to pull the position off with an air of unintimidated defiance rather than petulance however, glaring back at him with sharp green eyes that flashed angrily.

"I don't know," Xechalim countered darkly. "Is being a miserable person intentional, or is that just _who you are_?" Xercia's expression morphed into one of unreadable ice, lips drawing together tightly and her hot glare becoming a frigid gaze. The shadows behind her quivered and rasped faintly as the air around Xechalim became heavy with moisture that sang menacingly.

"Wow," a high, breathy voice echoed from everywhere at once. The two stepped apart as the darkness in one corner of the room bled open amidst a halo of thornbeams, dark tendrils disgorging the form of a fourth black-coated figure. Slightly taller than Xechamlim, the newcomer's face was obscured by the low light and their raised hood but their uniform was closer fitting than those of the others, with narrow sleeves and a more streamlined design that illustrated the individual's lean, slender frame. The dark corridor collapsed in on itself in their wake as they approached, footsteps tapping against the hard floor. "I think that's the most civil I've ever seen them," the figure–now identifiable as decidedly male–remarked, tilting his hooded head slightly in Celax's direction. "Wouldn't you say?"

The quiet Nobody nodded curtly. "Mm-hm," he replied before addressing the group at large. "But now that Xilam's here, can we _please_ get to work? We're delivering our progress report in just a few-" He was interrupted as the large device sitting in the corner began to emit a series of periodic beeps that trilled in time with the pulsing glow of a red light affixed to one of the panels.

"-now." Celax amended, striding over to the machine and fiddling with a few of the controls. A large monitor–pushed to the side of the main room–flickered to life and the four Nobodies moved to the center of the room. At first the screen only showed static, but an image began to quickly flicker into view, too choppy and indistinct to identify other than flashes of colour. Then the speakers erupted into sound as a garbled, painfully loud voice spoke through the squealing roar of static

_"*KHHHHHT*WELL, NOW, VEXESHSHHSSSSTTT*... *FSSKHS* -IT WORKING?"_ Each of the Nobodies flinched, clapping their hands to their ears in pain in a desperate attempt to shut out the overwhelming sound. Celax's body rippled and faded out of focus inconsistently as he fell to his knees, Xechalim and Xilam gritted their teeth and squeezed their eyes shut, and Xercia did her best to outdo the speakers in volume, spitting a steady stream of increasingly-inventive curses at the machine. As the sound began to clear up, another voice–high and nasally–split through their minds like an iron rod.

_"*VFFSSSZZKTT~NO, YOU MINDLESS CRETIN, I _TOLD_ YOU TH-*KKFFZZSHHJDDT* -ASN'T YET CALIBRated for the projected reception signal!"_ Now that the volume had finally begun to fall to non-earsplitting levels, the withering reprimands and indignant tone immediately registered as familiar to the assembled Nobodies.

_"Have you gone daft?! Or was it that your common sense was somehow misplaced and lost to the aether when you were reborn?!"_ Vexen's voice came through the speakers clearly as he berated the first speaker venomously. Xercia's swearing gradually abated and Xilam and Xechalim looked up at the still-indecipherable image on the monitor. Celax panted heavily from where he kneeled, struggling back to his feet with visible effort.

_"I fail to see the rationale with which blame can be cast upon my shoulders-"_ rumbled a baritone voice, deep and severe but tinted with aggravation. _"-when it was you yourself who mistakenly assumed I would be able to operate your device."_ A short bark of humorless laughter came from Vexen at that.

_"Indeed, my only mistake was entrusting as tactless a brute as you with such a sophisticated responsibility!"_ Celax finally managed to stand as they all heard the gravelly voice of the Taciturn Stalwart address the Chilly Academic with a note of danger.

_"You go too far, Vexen,"_ he warned before a third speaker cut in and ended the argument.

_"Enough. This bickering accomplishes nothing but to make fools of you both."_ The newcomer's voice was softer and belonged distinctively to a younger individual, but was as measured and calculated as a jaded elder's. Vexen 'hmph'd but remained begrudgingly quiet. _"Now, numbers fifteen through_ eighteen," the voice continued, now speaking to the room's occupants in a subdued purr._ "Respond. Can you confirm successful connection?"_

"We hear you," Xechalim answered. "Can't see you, though."

_"Vexen, if you would...?"_ the voice asked the scientist.

_"Yes, yes,"_ snapped the irate long-haired Nobody from somewhere off to the side. _"Just give me a moment to complete the calibrations,"_ A series of beeps and the clacking of fingers on a keyboard could be heard through the speakers, culminating in a low hum. The static on the monitor began to fade and the flashes of colour began to solidify until they formed the image of an immaculate white room. In the foreground stood a grey-haired young man dressed in a loose black coat. His back was to the camera but he turned, moving his face into view. His complexion was wan and his expression critical, his visible steely blue eye gazing out at the world from behind a heavy curtain of slate-grey bangs.

"Number Six," Celax greeted respectfully with a slight incline of his head. The Cloaked Schemer's reply was curt but familiar.

_"Number Fifteen."_ Glancing off to the side, the grey-haired intellectual stepped out of the frame to make way for another figure. Broad shouldered, barrel chested and muscular, with features that could have been hewn from solid stone, the hulking, brown-haired Nobody frowned at them pensively.

_"Is your report ready?"_ Lexaeus rumbled, voice heavy and powerful. Seeing a nod from the hooded boy, he continued. _"Then proceed."_

"After arriving through the portal we began secondary reconnaissance of the world. The information that the Dusks supplied appears largely accurate, if limited in scope." Lexaeus nodded.

_"Anything significant that you found?"_

"Plenty," Xilam answered lazily. "The Dusks were right; this world is definitely worth checking out." The wiry boy continued as Lexaeus's focus shifted to him. "I couldn't track down anything solid, but I sensed a lot of creatures that just had something wrong with them. I think they tried connecting to me, but I felt one get close and then they all bolted. In any case, my locator was flipping out trying to figure out what they were." The Taciturn Stalwart opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.

_"What do you mean, 'wrong with them'?"_ Vexen demanded curiously, shouldering his way into the frame in front of the camera. His brown-haired coworker stepped away, folding his arms bemusedly. _"And are you sure my Logistics-Oriented Codex And Terrain Overlay Recorder failed to classify the subject?"_

"I mean, they didn't feel normal, but not like a Heartless or Nobody does," Xilam elaborated, the silver trinkets of his coat clinking softly as he shook his head. "I don't know how to explain it." On the monitor, the long-haired scientist frowned in annoyance at the unenlightening explanation.

_"And what of my L.O.C.A.T.O.R.'s readings?"_ He pressed, determined to find something of value in the younger being's explanation.

"Like I said: nothing registered. Not human, not Heartless, not Nobody."

_"Fascinating,"_ Vexen murmured half to himself excitedly, rubbing his hands together with glee. _"This has the makings of something truly extraordinary."_ His gaze refocussed on the assembled younger Nobodies and his eyes sharpened. _"You will track these phenomena down, observe what you can and then deliver your findings on your next report."_ There was some uneasy shifting amongst the four. Xercia's lips pursed and Xilam slowly breathed out through his nose.

"Hey, Sir," Xechalim spoke up. "We've already got a lot of stuff to do here without looking for these things." The boy hesitated, searching for the right words to reach the scientist. Thankfully Zexion did so for him, speaking unseen from beyond the camera's field of view.

_"The boy does have a point, Sir,"_ the young tactician reasoned. _"They are in a critical phase of wide-scale data collection. Attempts at narrowing their spectrum of focus at this stage could invite considerable complications."_ As the young man moved into frame the corner of Xercia's mouth twitched downwards unbidden. That had been a clever ploy on the Schemer's part, she noted. First, appeal to the senior scientist's vanity in his field by deferring to him, though they were of roughly equal rank and scientific knowledge. Then, play to his analytical nature by pointing out obvious facts that the man had overlooked in his enthusiasm. And then finally place the weight of the decision squarely on the Chilly Academic's shoulders. Done. Subtly undermining the man's credibility on his own project while also simultaneously avoiding any possible blame. She really hated people like that. The sort of people who could utter an innocuous word and spark a war, only to stride onwards untouched through the ashes. Glancing over at her fellows, she saw a range of responses. Xechalim seemed to have missed the subtext entirely, while Xilam's expression was unreadable beneath his hood. But–as he was standing next to her–she could see Celax's features. He, too, it seemed had noticed. But his reaction was entirely different. In his eyes she saw interest and curiosity. Patient attentiveness. His eyes were much like his former instructor's, she thought as she turned her attention forwards. But they lacked the same mirrored quality of Zexion's own pale blue gaze. With Celax, she could look into his mottled brown orbs and see the layers of nothingness he put up to guard his thoughts within from the prying world. It was a quality she could on some levels acknowledge–knowing what she did of his past. But with the Cloaked Schemer she saw only reflections of her own image in those eyes. Mirrors that served to show her what he could see–to make her feel irrationally vulnerable and observed–all the while forgetting that she _was_ being watched. But which was the real façade? Was the truthful falsity the illusion of being studied or was the illusion that which her own mind told her in an effort to assuage her fears? This was what he could do: twist her thoughts down gibbering, winding paths with just his _eyes_. That was the sort of person that she hated–absolutely _despised_–in fact. And there was also the small, quiet voice that reminded her that she feared it, too.

Vexen's response snapped her out of her internal ramblings.

_"Fine,"_ he conceded begrudgingly. _"Limit your investigation to upon-encounter only."_ Xechalim nodded and Vexen turned his attention to Celax. _"Number Eighteen, your report?"_ he said. Blowing away a few wild strands of auburn hair with a short puff, the female Nobody crossed her arms.

"The darkness is close here," she said thoughtfully. "Closest I've seen it other than at HQ, but it's blocked. There's a force keeping it balanced out... or maybe purified's a better word. It turns into gloom and residue that's settled and mixed with everything here, kind of like in Halloween Town, but more... unstable... violent."

_"And the effect on dark corridors and Heartless formation?"_

Xercia frowned. "Long range corridors are a little too watery and permeable for my taste; a big surge could dump one of us off into the Realm of Darkness mid-trip. Short-range corridors are definitely harder to reach through, and travel time is nearly triple the Twilight Town norm. As for the Heartless, from what I've seen the little buggers don't form naturally–not even the Purebloods. The only ones I've seen used the holes we made coming in to hitch a ride, but they're cut off." The other end was silent, before Zexion cut in curiously.

_"If that's the case, what happens to the darkness in people's hearts?"_ The tactician was clearly intrigued.

The female Nobody scratched her head idly, grunting an 'I dunno.' "Maybe it's just distributed really well? That sort of thing _could_ happen if-"

_"Yes, yes, we're all aware of your equal composition balance theorum,"_ Vexen sniffed dismissively. Zexion nodded and a 'hm' of affirmation could be heard from Lexaeus, while Xercia rolled her eyes at the scientist's compulsively over-technical speech.

"I'm not," Xechalim announced cheerfully, prompting his russet-haired co-worker to turn and fix him with a flat stare. Her gaze became dryer as it panned along the line of younger Nobodies, seeing their blank expressions.

"Did _none_ of your bother to read the information I put together?" she demanded.

"No." Xechalim, upbeat.

"Nah." Xilam, nonchalant.

"I did, but a lot of it went over my head." Celax, slightly apologetic.

"Urgh," Xercia scowled and spoke up. "Short version: it's a theory saying that if there was a world where the amount of darkness in people's hearts was equal to or less than the aura running through it, no–or at least very few–Heartless would form naturally. And the same goes for connections to the RoD." Xechalim snickered.

"That's the acronym you went with?"

"Shut up, moron," the girl snapped back at him. "Anyways, it looks like that's what's happening here. If we're going to harvest hearts, we'll need to work that out."

_"Very well then. And you, Number Fifteen?" _The hooded Nobody stepped forwards.

"I encountered several powerful signatures around my target location," he said. "I believe they may have been hunting for something, but they were unable to detect me. I chose to return after they seemingly gave up in their search. Other than that, nothing of particular interest yet," he relayed, before his head shifted to face Xechalim. "With one exception that I believe Number Sixteen can cover." His tone was cool and brisk, prompting his brown haired compatriot to wince. Crap, Xechalim thought. It seemed Celax _was_ annoyed, after all. With the room's attention now focussed on him, the axe-wielder cleared his throat.

"I went to the mission place," he began. "And I ran into a big group of Shadows, so I started eliminating them before somebody found it. They left behind hearts, too." He reached up to pat his chest over the inner breast pocket of his coat. "But just as I was finishing, this one guy showed up and attacked me. Vexen frowned.

_"You were forced to eliminate a local? I fail to see where the issue lies. Such events are unfortunate, yes, but not-"_

"Ah- well..." Xechalim rubbed the back of his neck and looked off to the side. "That's kind of the problem, you see..." The Nobody winced. "I didn't actually... manage to kill him. In fact, he kind of... ah... almost killed me before I started taking him seriously?"

Dead silence followed that revelation. Xilam and Celax's faces were hidden and Xercia's was stunned. For all that she might mock the hydromancer and act superior, she knew from an objective standpoint that he was a powerful fighter, so the idea of him being pressured by an opponent was concerning.

_"Explain,"_ Vexen's frigid tone left no room no argument. Xechalim swallowed and spoke.

"He was young–maybe a bit older or younger than me–it was hard to tell. I first ran into him–literally– a few minutes before the fight, while on my way to encounter the Heartless. He was with a girl who was definitely a few years older than me. She said his name was 'Black*Star' and he called her 'Tsubaki.'" Vexen nodded, icy stare losing some of it's lethal chill.

_"Continue,"_ he ordered.

"When I saw him again he had a short sword and the girl was nowhere to be seen. He demanded to fight and then attacked, moving in at high speed." The axe wielder grimaced and touched one of the torn spots in his cloak where the boy's ninjatō had sliced through the black cloth. "He was fast–really fast–and by the time I started taking him seriously he was already going in for the kill. I got a lucky shot in and sent him flying before he could, then knocked him around a bit before he got back on his feet." He frowned. "Then I could have sworn he started _talking_ to his sword, and it transformed into a different weapon." Xechalim made vague hand motions, trying to trace the shape of the exotic-looking tool. "It looked like- um... a sickle, but with the blade pointing forwards and a chain coming out from the hilt... Handle...?"

_"-which was held in the off hand whilst the other end was used as bladed whip or retractable projectile?"_ Zexion asked curiously. The younger Nobody blinked.

"Uh, yeah. How did you-?" The Cloaked Schemer waved off the question, tilting his hand so that his palm faced upwards, pale lilac light creating the shape of a dangerous-looking weapon with a half-crescent blade, a short wooden handle, and a long chain ending in a small rectangular counterweight.

_"Something like this, perhaps?"_ With a tiny flick of his wrist, the image solidified and fell into his waiting grip with an audible tinkle of shifting metal links, the grey-haired Nobody holding the weapon with the apparent comfort of a practiced expert. Xechalim looked at the weapon carefully.

"Almost, but his had another blade at the other end." A shimmer, and the illusionary construct was now made symmetrical, the end of the chain adorned with another kama. This alteration was met with a nod.

_"A kusarigama. An exotic weapon, preferred mainly by assassins. Commonly used to entangle a foe's weapon, then finish them off at close range."_

_"If the two of you are quite finished with the_ theatrics,_ Number Sixteen has an recounting to finish,"_ Vexen reminded them. Zexion shrugged, the illusion disappearing as his hands lowered to his sides. Xechalim continued.

"I think that his partner might have had something to do with the weapon, since I heard him say 'Tsubaki' a couple of times when he changed it. Anyways, he was attacking me from long range with those, and I had to use Reflect a couple times to block it. Eventually, I managed to get a moment to interrupt his rhythm and used the water around us to make a wave. It worked, but he dodged it by getting up high. I started charging up a torrent force, and he turned his weapon back into a sword. I don't know what he did, but it suddenly looked like he was teleporting. Then Cel- Fifteen showed up and I opened a dark corridor. He tried to follow, but Fifteen distracted him long enough for it to close behind me. And that's about it."

_"So in summation,"_ Vexen's voice was dryer than the deserts of Agrabah. _"You allowed yourself to be seen, attacked a group of Heartless in broad daylight, and engaged a local that nearly defeated you. Is that correct?"_

"Yeah."

Vexen muttered something under his breath that sounded like 'idiot'. _"Recent blunders aside,"_ the scientist said._ "Your orders are as follows. Number Eighteen, you will observe the Heartless presence and related factors and compile your findings."_ Xercia grunted in affirmation. _"Numbers Seventeen and Sixteen, you will search for anomalies in the L.O.C.A.T.O.R.'s readings and log your findings. Number Fifteen, you will run maintenance on mission-critical devices, then begin distributing data collection equipment. Additional information is included in the updated mission briefing you received earlier. Do you understand?"_

"Hn/M-hm/Yeah/'sigh'," was the colourful assortment of responses that answered him.

_"You have eight hours downtime, then your work begins. Further contact will be established in three day's time. Until then, maintain radio silence. Vexen out."_ With that final message, the line went dead. Both audio and video feed cut to static then shut off, leaving the four Nobodies isolated from their kind once more. Each of them turned and ascended the short stairs in silence, exiting the small room. A switch was flicked, plunging the space into absolute darkness. There was a pause, then someone said,

"Good night."

A chorus of mumbled replies echoed the parting back out of habit. There was cold humor in those words–as the night, for them, held nothing but distant dreams that ached for reasons they could not understand–but the voices that spoke them were hollow. Meaningless words for meaningless people.

One by one, four minds turned to the worlds of sleep, the memories of what once was only serving to solidify their resolve to reclaim what was lost.

* * *

The whirring hum of the machine gradually wound down to nothing–its purpose fulfilled for the time. Vexen stepped away from the console, remarking on the construct's performance to himself in hushed tones. Lexaeus–seeing his presence was no longer required–turned and made his way from the room. As he left, he passed by another man who sported a wild mane of blue hair, pointed ears, and a jagged 'X'-shaped scar across his face. The two made no indication of acknowledging each other as the taller, broad-shouldered Nobody departed and the lean, fierce-looking one made his entrance. Saïx's eyes scanned the room–passing over a bored-looking Zexion–and eventually landing on the Chilly Academic as he hunched over a large ridiculously complex device, muttering under his breath and fiddling with a set of dials.

"-reset the fourth range of secondary wave feedback dampeners to position 22-b..." the scientist mumbled intently, either unaware or unable to be bothered by the Luna Diviner's arrival.

"Vexen," Saïx said coldly. He had neither the time nor the patience for the man's techno-babble ramblings. The other Nobody failed to react, instead pausing in his adjustments only for long enough to consult the readouts displayed on a tiny panel. Narrowing his eyes and peering at a board of switches the man shook his head, long, straw-coloured locks swaying back and forth, and resumed his muttering.

"Yes, as I thought: instances of failure in the accounting for cross-dimensional drift and ambient cosmic particulate... have to realign calculations to allow for a greater margin of error than current... point zero zero eight three seven increase in lower range..."

"Vexen."

"...but that would require diverting more power from the core, exceeding set safety parameters... have to rewire constraining resistors...account for potential burnout..."

"_Vexen_," Saïx snarled, having grown weary of the proud man's petty snubs. The scientist ceased his movements abruptly, going quiet. Seconds ticked by one by one with not a word exchanged. The corner of the Luna Diviner's lip curled back to reveal sharpened teeth, vicious temper showing from beneath the cracks in his cool exterior. Then Vexen tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.

"Yes, what is it?" Had such disrespect not been par for the course when dealing with the man Saïx would likely have been enraged. Had the scientist not possessed such expertise in his field he would have been inclined towards cutting him down on the spot, Superior's orders be damned. As both details were unfortunately true, the best Saïx could manage at the moment was fixing the man with a blood-chilling stare. Unfortunately such a gesture went sadly unappreciated as the gaunt Nobody didn't bother turning to face his peer.

"The Superior wants a copy of your report delivered to him as soon as possible," the blue-haired berserker informed him. "That is, if you aren't too preoccupied with your experiments." Vexen merely waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder, fiddling with a tangle of cables.

"Tell him I'll have it on his desk by tomorrow," the Academic replied half-interestedly.

"For your sake, you'd best." Saïx narrowed his yellow eyes. "I'm not sure your position could endure any further _disappointments_." This got the scientist's attention. Vexen visibly stiffened, shoulders locking tightly as if he'd been shocked. He rose to his feet and spun to face the Diviner–instruments forgotten–and glared witheringly at the man.

"I don't believe that the stability of my _position_ is any of your concern, Number VII," he snapped with thinly-veiled contempt. "And on that subject, what business do you have trotting about like a glorified messenger? Finally deigning to walk amongst the underlings you seem to order about so comfortably?" Vexen's tone could have added a new layer of ice to the arctic as he tacked on, "Or are you familiarizing yourself with the state of being a Dusk?"

"Ggghhrrrggrhh..."

A low, rumbling snarl began in the back of Saïx's throat, emerging past bared teeth as he took a threatening half-step forwards. Vexen remained unflinching, staring the blue-haired berserker down cooly with a frigid expression.

"Barking away like a dog on a leash." The Academic snorted derisively. "As predictably barbaric as ever. But what more could one expect from the Superior's trained mutt?" For an instant, Saïx's eyes flashed a sickly yellow and Vexen briefly wondered if he might have provoked the man too far. Then the glow disappeared, and the blue-haired Nobody spoke. His voice was somewhat deeper and bore a sinister, growling edge to it.

"You speak _boldly_, scientist." The Luna Diviner's tone was harsh and menacing. "You would do well to watch yourself, or-"

"Or _what_?" Vexen spat his question. "You can do naught but _yap and snarl_ without the Superior's permission." The temperature in the room began to plummet rapidly, a faint mist of fine crystals coalescing around the haughty professor in response to his mounting anger. "I have been given full supervision over this project and involved operations, second only to Lord Xemnas himself! You have _no_ authority here, you fumbling cretin! Now begone!" And with that the man spun on his heel, a miniature blizzard of arctic winds howling past the berserker and forcing him back a half-step. As the display of the scientist's power subsided, small patches of frost could be seen marking Saïx's coat in silvery streaks. He spared the Chilly Academic one final glare before his face once again became a mask of dismissive indifference and he turned sharply, stalking to the exit with the vicious intensity of a predator.

Reaching the door, he paused, turning to look back over his shoulder at the once-again working scientist.

"We'll see how long your favor holds," he growled. Vexen answered without looking up from the machine.

"My sentiments, exactly."

The sound of receding footsteps came soon after, leaving the scientist alone in the laboratory to concentrate on his work. Meanwhile, an inoffensive little book, bound in a nondescript black cover, sat open on a table nearby. Row after row of neat, jet-black lettering continued to fill its pages, detailing the conversation that had just taken place in painstaking detail until the record was complete. The book then closed itself without a sound, fading out of existence as if it had never been. Elsewhere in the castle, the same book eased itself into being in the palm of a black gloved hand. As if by magic, the tome opened to its newly-acquired pages, dull azure eyes sweeping lazily over the words contained within. Once the book had divulged the last of its secrets, the reader snapped it shut in a single smooth motion, immaculate pages sealing together and then vanishing entirely. The reader pushed themselves away from the wall they had been leaning against, no emotion visible in their face save for the glimmer of interest that resided in their eye.

"Interesting..."

* * *

**Well, here it is, everyone. My longest chapter to date. Hooray! But all that aside, I've been running into some problems here. If someone is reading this who has at least a good grasp of Soul Eater is willing to help me out, it would be much appreciated! If you would be open to that, please shoot me a PM as soon as you can! Chapter six has been running into some issues in regards to the Soul Eater side of the spectrum, and I don't want to put too much focus on the Organization over the DWMA as a side-effect of not being that familiar with the material. **

**As always, leaving a review to give feedback, or even just your opinion is enormously appreciated. I apologize for the lengthy waits I make you sit through and I thank you for your time, everyone! **

**–Scarlet Warhawk**


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